


each sweet and stuttered breath

by twilightspecter (LovelyLessie)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 02:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16108574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLessie/pseuds/twilightspecter
Summary: Three lost teenagers on the run from their past, looking for a place they can belong where they could build a new life together, and maybe, if they’re lucky, even try to heal the scars left by the old one.





	each sweet and stuttered breath

You don’t know where you are by the time you stop running, just that it’s worlds and worlds away from anywhere you’ve been before. It’s half strange and half familiar, a cluster of crooked buildings tucked in the cracks between the edges of anywhere real. 

“A place for anyone who doesn’t have a place to go,” he says with a crooked smile.    


“Or for no one,” you reply quietly, and he laughs, sharp-edged, sparks in his eyes.    


It’s raining and hazy when you reach the town; flickering streetlights shine yellow through the mist.  Next to you she reaches for your hand, and you lace your fingers through hers as you fall into step in the shadow of his stride.    


“Jeez,” he says, “this place is a ghost town.”    


“Do you think we’ll be safe here?” she asks quietly.    


He waves a hand dismissively without looking back. “Yeah, we’ll be fine. No one’s gonna come looking for us this far out.”    


You share a look with her behind his back, biting your lip. He’s lying, and you can see on her face that she knows it, too. You wonder if he does. You decide not to call his bluff and find out.    


“So what do we do now?” she presses, her grip on your hand tightening.    


He shrugs. “First we better find somewhere to shelter from this rain. We’re all gonna catch cold at this rate.”    


Heavy silence hangs over the three of you as you wander the empty streets. You don’t know anymore how long you’ve been on the move, and it’s beginning to wear on everyone. You’ve barely slept for more than an hour at once in days, trading in shifts with her when she becomes too tired to go on; you’re not sure he’s slept at all since you left.    


If this place isn’t far enough, isn’t safe enough to keep them from coming after you, you’re not sure any of you are going to make it. You can’t keep this up for much longer.    


Thunder splits the sky and she jumps, catching her breath sharply as she presses closer to your side. The rain drums down harder, the wind picking up to lash your face with it. “Shit!” he says, pulling up the hood of his coat. “Come on, hurry.”    


He runs towards one of the nearby buildings, taking the stairs in one leap to pull on the door handle. When it doesn’t open he braces his foot against the door frame and tries again, throwing his weight into it so hard he falls backwards and lands on his back on the pavement.    


“Fuck!” he shouts up at the sky, and lets his arms fall to his sides in defeat.    


“Are you okay?” you ask quickly, leaning over him.    


“What’s it look like, smartass?” he asks, his voice all teeth and fire, as bitter as ash in your mouth.    


“I only meant -“ you try to say, and falter. “I’m sorry, I...”    


“No,” he says, shaking his head as he sits up. “I am. I didn’t mean to snap, I’m just...tired, and wet, and cold, I shouldn’t have...”   


Thunder rumbles again and she whimpers, grabbing your arm.    


“We’ve gotta find cover,” you say. “Let’s go.”    


He finds a half covered alcove in an alleyway between two buildings, and you all gather in the farthest corner, huddled against the wall out of the worst of the storm. He undoes his jacket and spreads it on the wet ground to sit down.    


“Come here, you two,” he says. “We better all get some rest.”    


You sit down next to him, curled up against his side, and she huddles up on his other side, reaching across his chest to grab your hand. The rain still pours down a few feet away, and the hard pavement underneath you offers little comfort even for your aching legs, but his arm around your shoulders helps chase off the chill, and the storm doesn’t seem so bad with your head on his shoulder and your fingers wrapped up in hers.

—

In daylight the city is more alive and less familiar, and the people who pass on the street give you strange looks. You must look awful - three tired strangers dressed in black, soaking wet from the last night’s rain, with dirt on your faces and knots in your hair. You try to ignore them, wander through the streets in half a daze, all clinging together, your hand on his sleeve, hers wrapped tight around your wrist.    


The night before this place was a ghost town but now you wonder if you’re the ghosts, instead.    


“What do we do now?” you ask him. “Where do we go from here?”    


“Fuck if I know,” he sighs, brushing back his hair with one hand. “Somewhere with a bed to sleep in, that would be nice.”    


You bite your lip. “You sleep at all last night?”    


“Some,” he says, but his shoulders hunch forwards and he turns away from you so even the sliver of the side of his face is out of sight, and you know it’s not true. He’s a damn good liar, but not so much to you or her.    


“Maybe we could stay here,” she says tentatively. “At least for a while, just to rest.”    


“What do you think?” you ask, your fingers tightening around his sleeve.    


He shrugs. “We can do whatever you want to do. I dunno why you guys think I’m in charge, here.”    


“You always know what to do,” you say, looking down. “You’re the grown-up, right?”    


He laughs rough and harsh as sandpaper, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. “Jeez, I’m not really a grown-up. Just more grown-up than you are.”    


His shoulders shake a little; he sounds like he’s still laughing but it’s breathless, almost silent, and his hands are curled into fists.    


“I’m just another stupid kid,” he says after a moment, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know what I’m doing any more than you do.”    


You bite your lip and glance over at her; she looks back, wide eyes full of worry. For a moment no one moves.    


Slowly, she lets go of your hand and steps forward to take his. “We can figure it out together,” she says. “As long as it’s the three of us, we’ll be okay, right?”    


He turns to stare at her, bright-eyed, the corners of his mouth tight and his brows drawn together in a frown. “I...” he begins, and falters.    


You grab his other hand and look up at him fiercely. “Because we’re best friends,” you say. “And best friends are more than just friends. They don’t just talk, and laugh with each other, and - and -“ You falter, uncertain, caught by the thought that you might never share the same moments with them again. “And spend time together,” you say instead. “They’ve got each other’s backs, right?”    


The hard line of his shoulders softens a little and he gives you both a smile, crooked and uncertain, as faint and as precious as a single beam of sunlight breaking through a storm. “You two,” he says, shaking his head slowly, and his fingers tighten around yours. “You’re really something else, aren’t you?”    


You beam at him, and she giggles, covering her mouth with her free hand. “I guess we are,” you agree, and it feels like every color imaginable is blooming bright in your chest.

—

After days on end of running it makes you nervous to stop so suddenly; you keep feeling as if you need to look over your shoulder to be sure you haven’t been found. You don’t know yet how safe it is to be here, how long you’ll be able to rest before you have to leave, and even when you’ve made it far enough away, none of you know what to do next, where to start building something new from the bottom.    


But there’s a cheap three-star motel on the edge of town, and that’s something to go on, so you take out a double room together, and for the first time in days you feel like you can breathe.    


He claims the shower the second you get inside, and by the time you get out after him he’s already asleep, sprawled out on top of the covers and taking up an entire full-sized bed by himself. You stifle a laugh with one hand and grab the comforter from the other bed to drape over him, and he mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep, the side of his face pressed into the pillow. She slips off to shower too, and you settle down on the empty bed, listening to the sound of the running water and the rise and fall of his breathing.    


In another lifetime, you think, maybe it could have been this simple: the three of you with no one else to get in between, without the fear that looms over your shoulders outside the motel room, without the nightmares you’re running from. In another lifetime, one that’s far away from everything you’re leaving behind, maybe you could be by each other’s sides and watch the sun set over the rooftops without ever dreaming it would end.    


Even if you could all stay here, you don’t know how to start a new life. The one you’re running from is all you remember. You can’t even recall how it started.    


But you do remember how this started: one day after another, left foot in front of right, tentative and uncertain and unfolding piece by piece.    


You find a pen and take the cheap notepad from the bedside table, and you start it the only way you know how: with the number one, for the first day.


End file.
